A Commitment
by Abox
Summary: For a young boy of only fifteen years, Lance has experienced a lot. From the death of his parents to the arrival of the covenant and all of the juicy details in between, he's seen a lot. Follow the point-of-view of an insanely sarcastic adolescent as he grows up and makes his way through life while the covenant hammer humanity's borders. Contains cursing, maybe sex
1. Chapter 1: The Beginning or the End?

Y'know, falling from a tree hurts a lot more than you'd think. And I've done that before; so don't try to tell me otherwise. But falling from a five-story building and onto a tree is a whole different type of pain.

I'm lucky alright. Like don't get me wrong, falling off a building isn't lucky in any normal circumstance. But compared to the others that fell off with me, I'm pretty sure they'd wish they were me…if they could still wish at all.

You've heard the stories of the covenant and their conquests, but unless you see them for your own eyes, you don't really believe them. And well, I believe them now. I don't really have a choice anyways, theirs literally a squad of grunts below me finishing off whoever else fell.

Mm…don't you love the fresh smell of seared flesh?

It really sucks man…this situation I mean. Like what're they going to put in my obituary? Fifteen-year old brat with bad grammar dies to covenant? Nah, that's a terrible way to go. At least leave out the bad grammar part.

Oh yes, where was I? Hmm…seems to me like I'm trapped in a tree while grunts are slaughtering civilians right under me and the building next to me is being cleaned out by grunts…

What? No, I don't have supernatural psychic powers that tell me what happens through walls. You can just smell them. They literally smell like farts.

Ah, I hear it now. The soft pitter-patter of our ballistics in the distance. If I weren't such a cynic at this soft, young age, I'd think that I was saved. Well I was safe. These grunts, I heard, weren't known for their keen senses or situational awareness. So I'm perfectly content sitting in a tree.

Fine, I'm not technically sitting. Sprawled out among branches whilst being impaled by what I think is a chair leg doesn't really roll off the tongue, okay?

Huh I didn't notice that before. I should stop slouching really; it's quite bad for my back I heard. Wouldn't want to disappoint my dead parents.

Oh, the gunfire is getting quite loud now. I think there are some marines below.

I think I shout, "help," at least I tried to. There's too much blood in my mouth. And I really am starting to feel the damn chair leg. Ah fuck, I'm losing my vision. Is this what it feels like to die? Man, I wanted to join the corps too. Well then, I'm fine with some peace and quite for once. Ah yes the sweet relief of death. Hopefully, they'd leave out the bad grammar part on my tombstone. Wait, can I even afford a tombstone? Shit. I think there's still some money in the bank account. Do I even need a tombstone? I heard the covenant glasses the planets. Then I'd need to hav-

* * *

Note:

Well he blacks out at the end, just to clear up why this chapter ends like this. I'll probably write another chapter if anyone bothers to read this [chapter] lol.


	2. Chapter 2: Four Years' Time

Ah fuck.

Waking up during take-off, especially on one of these shitty refugee ships is no pleasant experience. Sure, I'm alive and all that, but really, there's no point in me being here.

At least I'm lying down…I should be grateful, huh. But I'm too selfish for that so I'll complain about how it's too packed for an injured person like me. But at least that damned chair leg is out of my system. I wonder where I'm heading, but then again, I don't really care.

"Ay kid, ya'right?" A deep voice called out.

Looking around, I find the source of the deep voice–a tall dark man dressed like a marine. He had a cross on his arm too so I assume he was the on-ship doc.

"Ye ain't deaf an' shit are yah?" Doc calls.

"You did this?" I ask, pointing at the area where the chair leg had pierced through.

"Well no shit dumbfuck, you think the commander did that?" Doc says, "You'd better get your lil' ass off that cot, we've got more injured soldiers so scram," emphasizing the "soldier."

"A'ight then, thanks Doc," I say as I climb quite unsteadily out of the infirmary bed, "How long have I been here?"

"'Dunno, I was just transferred here two days ago, I assume it's been a week kiddo, better get going, make sure to stay in the civilian section"

"Civilian section?"

"Yeah kid, you're in an UNSC ship, don't mess around, the AI sees all," Doc says while pointing to my right, "it's the rooms on that end of the ship, keep walking 'til you see civvies, there's a couple of empty rooms and necessities there, the front's for military, keep out of it, we're running on skeleton crew."

I give a lighthearted wave of thanks as I walk out. I'd have to see about getting new clothes, there's a large whole in my shirt and some large amount of blood all over.

Ah, how I love the feeling of recycled air brushing against my open stitches. I shouldn't get an infection, right?

I guess I'll just sit tight until we make land.

After a few lost twist and turns, I manage to find an empty room and decide that its four empty cots are good enough for me.

Maybe I should try and make some friends in the cafeteria and shit. Nah, I prefer being alone. I am a teenager after all, and I have my… frustrations.

Coming out of my room feeling much more refreshed, I head in the direction that my nose brings me–the cafeteria. It's virtually empty. There are maybe four other civilians in this smaller cafeteria. There are a couple meal machines in the corner and some drink stations next to them. On the opposite end are large, windows that span the entire wall. Although it's a smaller cafeteria, the four others here have found their own tables with at least a table in between each other.

I grab some grub and find myself a table in the corner next to the windows. A group of four other civilians come in right as I sit down. I assume they're friends by the way they interact with each other. They grab their own food and the look around for a place to sit. One of their gazes lands on me and it seems like he wants to lead his friends over to me, most likely the youngest in the room.

A death stare changes his mind.

The noisy friends find a table in the center of the room and start to eat happily.

The days pass in this fashion. I find a routine. Sleep. Squeeze one out. Eat. Sleep. What more could I ask for? Actually, I could ask for a lot. I could start with revenge but that's quite shallow. I want vengeance. See, it's not as shallow a word as revenge.

Revenge for what you may ask. Well although I have no family or friends that could have been killed by the covenant, I did have a "home" in the most morally loose definition of the word. I also did have a collection of traditional knives. What? I am a loner for a reason. No one likes hanging out with a 15 year old brat that plays with sharp objects. We're hormonal y'know.

The long time spent on this ship does not help my anger. I think I might be going crazy. The eight other civilians that share the small cafeteria have all made friends. I'm all that's left.

* * *

Marine training isn't as bad as it seems.

Well of course I'm not going to fill you in on the past four years. I'll just summarize. What, did you think I was going to be nice?

After it took almost half a year of random jumps and down time, we finally touched down. On what planet, I have no idea. However, I did manage to hitch a ride to Earth.

I'll tell you this. Earth is pretty cool. It's stupidly overpopulated. But then there are historical sights, like the Great Wall of China and shit that just really amaze me. My best subject when I bothered to go to school was Ancient Earth History after all. Mainly because I'm a Chinese descendant, and that China was fucking ancient, and rich.

Anyways, I've completed Marine training. What? You don't believe me? Well you're right. Thanks for ruining my moment asshole. I did complete training though. In the time I was on Earth, I managed to be qualified on most ground vehicles. Impressive huh? However, for the life of me, I cannot get qualified on a warthog or mongoose. Like what the fuck? They're just cars. But then again, I still don't have a license. I can operate a Scorpion, Cobra, Gremlin, Elephant, Grizzly, Mammoth, Wolverine, Fox, and a Cougar. Well not all at once of course.

Well how did I get authorized for all these different vehicles you may ask? Well I originally only wanted to be any old marine, but then I found out I had bad knees, bad back, and was too lazy to do all that running. So I decided to join the armor division–to avoid the running part. What? I'm not some kind of plebe. I want to sit here and watch all these plebes run in the dust of my Fox. Don't know what a Fox is? Well it's got a similar body as a Cougar or Wolverine, but it has an old-fashioned artillery cannon on it's back. Quite badass right? Reminds me of the ancient anti-tank…tanks. Yeah I don't understand their logic back then either. Why would you make a special tank for killing tanks? What else were tanks used for back then? Storming trenches? Don't kid me. But anyways, I'm just dreaming. The Fox Cannon is a mobile heavy artillery vehicle. Of course I can kill tanks with it, but we're more suited to charging brutes or hunkered down elites.

So bragging aside, training camp was shit. And it wasn't fucking easy to get authorization on all those vehicles. Trust me, Gremlins are way too complicated for their own good. Halftracks like Wolverines are much easier. Full on tracks is a bit trickier, but are still manageable. I think I'm just bad with wheels. Cobra Cannon and Mammoth Cannon? Easy as pie. But driving those two? I barely passed the test. Mainly because they moved too slowly for me to fuck it up. It seems the only fully wheeled vehicle that I can actually operate well is the Fox.

Ah, oh well, at least graduation should be fun.

After getting my official magnum sidearm and medals signifying my low private rank, I was finally assigned a position. Retreating back to my barracks to gather my belongings, I pass by a mirror. I look in it and see what I've become.

A tall, lean Asian guy–no, a soldier–with a face right out of a movie. A constant scowl, angular jaw, and neatly trimmed dark brown comb over. Ah yes, the epitome of Asian males.

And my dark green ceremonial garb with my nameplate: Private First Class Lance Zhao.

Covenant, here I come.

* * *

 **Name:** Lance Hei Zhao (Native: Zhao Hei-Long)

 **Age:** 19

 **Rank:** Private First Class

 **Occupation:** Fox-Cannon Operator

 **Call Sign:** Shaman

 **Squad:** Rain Squad

 **Platoon:** 3rd Platoon

 **Company:** Sigma Company

 **Battalion:** Fourth Armored Battalion (free battalion)

* * *

 _Author's Note:_

 _So like I planned for a Sunday release…like two weeks ago, but I was too busy so here it is. I sorry, I think its really long, but hey, I'm trying to make up for the fact that the previous one is already three weeks old….I think._

 _Idk, pm if you have suggestions I guess? I might check my inbox…hopefully._

 _Alright then, hope y'all enjoyed. I'll try to write another one soon._

 _His name is actually: 炤黑龍 (shining black dragon)_

 _left it here because I assume most can't read Chinese so I didn't want to confuse anyone :P_


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